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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619073">Slingarm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_Dimorphodon/pseuds/Sleepy_Dimorphodon'>Sleepy_Dimorphodon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:03:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,627</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_Dimorphodon/pseuds/Sleepy_Dimorphodon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A little something that a drawing of mine sort of inspired, featuring a new neutral medic named Slingarm. This oneshot also helps me better explore his character a little bit. I don't have any ideas for a continuation atm, so don't expect any new chapters.</p><p>Update: dammit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Capture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p><span>Slingarm</span> <span>ran his digits over the other mech’s arm as he inspected the weld mark, “can you move your fingers?”</span></p><p>
  <span>The mech nodded and a moment later his servo flexed, fingers outstretched before relaxing and spreading out again. The medic smiled and gave his shoulder a light pat, “Good. Your hand should be good as new after a few days of rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks doc,” the mech’s yellow optics squinted as he smiled behind his faceplate. He turned and joined up with the other resting patients at the center of the building, all well enough to move about, but still needing to take things easy until given the all clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slingshot sighed as he set his tools aside. The day had been calm but busy. He still had patients who were in a pretty bad way, all of them casualties of war and left behind to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The neutral frowned a bit. It was sad how things had turned out. So many years of violence, death and loss… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But one of the newer patients he had taken in a few days ago had given him a bit of hope. The poor bot was low on fuel, his frame badly singed and ridden with bullet holes, but he had looked so relieved when Slingarm found him. Once he could talk, he wouldn’t stop muttering about the end of the war. That Megatron had been defeated and the Decepticons scattered to the solar winds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A more realistic part of him said that the poor mech was just being delusional thanks to his injuries and lack of fuel. But the more hopeful part wanted to believe that the fighting really was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slingarm glanced to the makeshift berths and the sleeping patients there. Once everyone was healed and well enough to travel, he’d have to get them all off of this rock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though on a planet like this, one teaming with organic mechaphobes who’d either kill them or auction them off as slaves, leaving wouldn’t be easy. Hiding a makeshift medbay in a long abandoned arena was hard enough, let alone the twenty or so patients housed inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slingarm shook his helm and stretched his stiff back struts. It was a little too easy to get lost in his own thoughts, despite not only being very busy, but surrounded by some very outgoing mechs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sharp beep caught his attention. He turned to the table beside him and picked up a lit datapad that monitored the outside scanners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The energon in his veins suddenly ran cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly set the datapad down as he turned away, sirens blaring to catch everyone’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the frag??” And older femme started to curse angrily at being so rudely awaken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize everyone,” the lights on his arms were still flashing, “but we have an emergency. I need everyone to grab whatever you can and start heading downstairs immediately. The stronger of you must help me carry the most injured to safety! Please remain calm, remember the few drills we practiced!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite that, it was clear his patients were more than worried as they scrambled about, some grabbing their friends or the few cubes of energon they had before making their way to the hidden door at the back of the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three strongest and largest mechs made their way to the bedridden patients and started to calmly and gently pick them up. A few started to follow their lead, much to Slingarm’s relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medic grabbed the last of the patients, a tiny femme, and started trail the rest of them to the underground shelter.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Bang!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked back in alarm. The organics were at the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With little thought he handed the femme to the mech next to him and rushed towards his desk where he kept his blaster, “Everyone hurry!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gun in hand, Slingshot turned his attention to the front doors. He could feel the panic in the remainder of his retreating patients. Primus, he was just as terrified as they.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he stood his ground, blaster trained at the crumbling doors. He could hear their bug-like chittering and hisses. It almost sounded like maniacal laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay away from my patients!” His armor flared as he fired at the first of them to break through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Muddy green blood splattered onto the grey forms behind. With startled shrieks and hisses, they briefly drew back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’ll happen to the rest of you if any one of you takes another step forward!” Slingshot snarled and blared his sirens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the grey creatures didn’t seem deterred as they clicked their mandibles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fffffiestyyyy…” the biggest of them sneered, “yyyou willll ssssell for a fffffine priceee….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medic bared his teeth and shot at them again, “stay back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The leader hissed and flicked a boney claw in his direction. Immediately the others lunged forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slingshot yelped in alarm and blindly shot again, his free servo balled up in a fist in preparation for a fight. He didn’t realize how many there were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slammed his fist into the side of a nearby organic’s head, cracking the exoskeleton open. He shot at another and kicked at a third. Though he fought as hard as he could, this was still a losing battle, if you could even call it that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One sneaky organic managed to slip right up in front of him, wielding an electrical prod. The two prongs were shoved into his neck cables and after a terrible shock, Slingarm’s world went dark.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Escape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Slingarm let out a strained groan as he regained consciousness. He sat up, noting the clatter of chains and an uncomfortable tightness around his wrists.</p><p>“You alright, Doc?” He looked down at a smaller monoformer at his right, his visor flickering with nervousness.</p><p>“Y-Yeah. I’m fine,” he rubbed at the small electrical burn on his neck, briefly glancing at the cuffs. He turned his attention to his surroundings, finding that he was currently sitting at the back of a cell. Out of his twenty-four patients, only seven remained.</p><p>He sat up in alarm, “where are-?”</p><p>“Sorry Doc,” a large tank with an eyepatch picked at his paint, “they killed those who couldn’t walk and already auctioned the others off. They’re taking a break right now, but the auction will continue soon.”</p><p>“What? No!” Slingarm’s blue lights flashed in alarm and disbelief. His frame slouched as he was quickly overcome by a heavy wave of guilt and shame. His face fell into his shaking servos. Some doctor he was. He had failed to protect his patients.</p><p>But he needed to pull himself back together. This was no time to be wallowing in regret. He still had seven patients to look out for.</p><p>He sat up, mouth fixed in a deep frown, and pressed his left pointer finger to his right wrist. Small panels on the end of his finger moved back as he deployed a drill, and started to drill into the cuff, weakening it so he could break it off without hurting his wrist. He did the same thing to his left cuff.</p><p>“So, uh… you gonna do that to ours?” The monoformer leaned in as he whispered. Slingarm nodded and raised a finger to his lips.</p><p>“Quiet.”</p><p>The monoformer nodded and raised his hands up to him, presenting the cuffs.</p><p>With one lookout keeping watch for approaching organics, Slingarm drilled into his patients’ cuffs.</p><p>“When the guard shows up, I’ll rush him,” he whispered to the last seven, “all of you will then run, surely there will be ships parked nearby for the auction. Take one.”</p><p>“You’re making it sound like you’re not gonna follow,” one of the seven frowned. The medic swallowed nervously.</p><p>“I don’t expect to make it out myself. That’s fine, my priority is your safety. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”</p><p>“I don’t like this,” another tapped their digits anxiously. A large emperata gave them a pat.</p><p>“We’ll make it out.”</p><p>“That’s the right attitude,” Slingarm smiled.</p><p>“Guard incoming,” the lookout hissed. The prisoners quickly lowered their heads and fell silent.</p><p>The organic clicked its mandibles as it looked into the cell. After a moment it unlocked the door and stepped in.</p><p>“Now!” Slingarm barked as he lunged forward, startling the guard. He grabbed the organic’s head and crushed the exoskeleton. The seven patients were already racing for the exit, and he followed them out last.</p><p>Just as he’d predicted, there was a sort of parking lot full of ships not far from where the auction was taking place.</p><p>Slingarm slowed and looked back as a group of organics ran to stop the escapees. He deployed all ten drills from his fingers and ran to confront them.</p><p>He dug his fingers into the first one’s face, curling then yanking back. He ignored the disgusting green goop that now coated his hand as he went after the next. He needed to make sure none passed him, which obviously was easier said than done as more organics were arriving at the scene.</p><p>The medic buried his drills into one of their chest and jumped back, changing to his armored car mode. He drove into the crowd, his mounted cannons blasting away. So far so good. It seemed like he was successful in holding them back. He hoped his patients had managed to get away, but he had no way of knowing now.</p><p>Slingarm’s spark almost stopped as his world suddenly went spinning. Once he stopped, he shifted back to bot mode and got up, distoriened but still determined to fight. How did that even happen?</p><p>There was a new figure amongst the grey bug like aliens. A skinny white four armed creature stood at the front, wearing what was probably a white and black lab coat. The thing was ugly and ancient looking, with squinted eyes and a set frown. Each of its boney fingers were tipped with ridiculously long black talons.</p><p>The alien was so frail looking at it looked like it’s bones would snap if Slingarm so much as poked it. Yet it seemed completely unafraid, which was… unnerving.</p><p>Still, Slingarm held up his fists, “want a piece o’ me old freak?!”</p><p>The ancient organic’s lip twitched as it held out one of its arms, palm facing the medic and fingers outstretched. Was this some kind of joke?</p><p>“Uh?!” Slingarm sucked in a sharp gasp as he suddenly felt a sharp tightness in his inner workings, alongside dizziness. He fell to his knees with a grunt and looked at the old creature with wide, confused optics. Its palm was still facing him.</p><p>Oh dear. It seemed to have some form of psychic abilities. No wonder it was completely unafraid. Cybertronians (for the most part) had little idea on how to combat such a rare phenomenon.</p><p>The old alien turned to the tall grey bug to its right, “I can take this one off of your hands.”</p><p>“It willlll beeeee expenssssivvve,” It hissed angrily, “for alllll the damage iiiiit caaaauuuussssed…”</p><p>“Fair. I can pay for it.”</p><p>The dizzyness increased, making it difficult to focus. Grey forms surrounded him, and he couldn’t move away. He was once again cuffed and after some sort of pressure was placed around his neck cables, Slingarm passed out.</p><p>When he woke up once more, he was back in a cell. Alone this time. As he took in his darkened surroundings, Slingarm felt his tanks churn. This time, there was no escaping.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Rescue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure what had just happened. One minute he was sitting in that Primus damned cell, then there was so much panic and commotion, and now here we was, on the surface of a foreign planet, servos deep in the chestplates of a downed cybertronian. His knees were still shaking and his head spinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he had a patient to attend to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He briefly glanced at the grey face of the flier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mech looked young, his features soft without any signs of a violent history. It was almost rare to see such faces these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slingarm could still hear the sounds of distant fighting. He still wasn’t sure what happened, but there were no other cybertronians that he had seen during the confusion. Perhaps this kid had just been caught up in the crosshairs?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few rewires and ties, the medic had stopped the heavy bleeding, and sealed up what he could of the wound. It was a temporary patch up, but it would work for the time being. Now to get them both away from this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slingarm carefully heaved the unconscious mech onto his back and shifted to vehicle mode, driving further away from the commotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half a hour into the drive, Slingarm slowed to a stop when he started to feel the flier stir above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhg…” he twitched, raising his long skinny wings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy,” the medic carefully shifted back to bot mode and eased the mech onto his back, “try not to make any sudden moves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha...?” He blinked tiredly and grimaced, raising a servo to the injury on his chest, “ow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah-don’t touch!” Slingarm grabbed his wrist, “I don’t have much in the way of medical tools to stop another bleed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” the mech sighed and propped himself up on his elbows, taking a moment to look around, “where…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Some random dead planet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” he looked at Slingarm, “and you are…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slingarm. I’m a medic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” the mech smirked, “I’m Starhawk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Starhawk looked down at his damaged chestplates, “so you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have any medical equipment on you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aside from a few built in ones, no. I lost what little I had two years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, that must suck. Maybe Sliver could give you some of ours. He hardly knows how to use most of em anyway,” the black and gold mech chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” Slingarm blinked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of friends. I think you’d like him, Whisper too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Starhawk sat upright, looking around again, “seems like I missed out on that terf war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pardon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the organics. Lots of them are pretty territorial about the little sectors of space. It’s easy to get them to fight each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Slingarm narrowed his optics, “you caused that fight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Starhawk grinned and nodded, “Yup! I had one group chase me into another territory. As soon as the ships noticed each other, I was completely forgotten. Still got hit though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slingarm looked down at the mech’s chest for a moment. He shook out his wrists with a sigh and</span>
</p><p>
  <span>turned his optics skyward, “I’m guessing you have a way off of this rock?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. My friends will pick me up. What about you old man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medic let out a small displeased grunt, “what about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got a ride?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, “no, I was trapped on an organic ship for about two years. I was sold to them and… yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Starhawk’s wings flicked, “well, you’re welcome to come with us. Primus knows we could use an experienced doctor on the team!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Slingarm smiled for a moment. His face quickly grew solemn again, “do you think your team would be willing to help me with something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young mech shrugged his shoulder, “depends. What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to find what remains of my patients. They were sold off to organics like I was, and I have a responsibility to protect them. I need to make sure they’re alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Starhawk pinched his chin and his optics narrowed in thought, “the universe is pretty vast, man. Do you know where to start?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a general idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will it be fun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will it be dangerous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’d say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then,” Star grinned, surprisingly pleased with that answer, “I will help you on your quest!”</span>
</p>
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